


Insomnia

by Wortspiel



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Book: Q-Squared - Peter David, Dreams and Nightmares, Enterprise, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship/Love, Insomnia, Inspired by Novel, Jean-Luc Picard Is So Done, Love Confessions, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-09-12 06:17:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16867696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wortspiel/pseuds/Wortspiel
Summary: He tossed and turned, cold sweat beading his forehead as her perpetual panicked screams pierced his heart.'You're dead! You're dead You're dead!'It was repeating over and over in his mind. Her sheer terror was unmistakably evident in her cracking voice...This fanfic is basically a follow-up story to Peter David's novel 'Q-Squared'. I would recommend you to read the novel first (since it's well written and full of PC!) but I'm trying to weave the most important information into the story nevertheless, so it can be read as a stand alone as well.





	1. CHAPTER I

_Leise säuselnd weht er über_

_Wiesen, Felder, durch den Wald._

 

He tossed and turned, cold sweat beading his forehead as her perpetual panicked screams pierced his heart. _You're dead! You're dead You're dead!_  
It was repeating over and over in his mind. Her sheer terror was unmistakably evident in her cracking voice.

Fleeting images, sounds and memories flashed in his mind, sending him thrashing and kicking in desperation. Jack's visage, distorted by anger, by unrelenting, burning hatred. The phaser aimed right on his very own heart. The sickening crack of bones brutally shattered on hard ground-

Jean-Luc Picard shot up in his bed, accidently shoving the blanket to the ground without even noticing.  
His own heart was frantically pounding against his ribcage, strained breathing only slowly calming back to normal. It took him minutes to get out of the fearful haze that clouded his mind.  
_It was a dream. Nothing but a dream_ , he reassured himself.

However, that was not entirely true. Tonight it was a dream. About two weeks ago, it had been devastating reality.  
The scene was carved into his memory and he relived it at night ever since then. Very vividly.

The moment where he had heard Jack Crusher's voice through the intercom along with Beverly’s fearful screams. And the utter chaos that followed after…

He reached over to his nightstand for a glass of water and carefully took a sip of the cool fluid. All the while, he forced his trembling fingers to obey his orders and not spill it all over his lap instead.  
Lingering fear was replaced by displeasure, no, almost irritation, at his own inability to deal with the situation as he expected it from himself. It was taking a heavy toll on him by robbing him of his badly required sleep. By now that was getting inconveniently visible.

With a sigh, he rubbed both his palms over his sweat-covered face and slipped out of the comforting warmth of his bed. Barefooted he padded over to the bathroom and braced himself on the sink to get a look of his face in the mirror. He was paler than usual - almost ashen to be precise - and dark shadows underlined his tired eyes.

Yesterday he had been reprimanded already. What had she said? He couldn't recall her accurate wording. But it had been something close to:  
_"Captain, I'm very much concerned about an officer on your ship. He does not get enough rest and it’s beginning to affect his concentration."_

Affect his concentration. To his dissatisfaction, it was not an overstatement. They had bantered a little more until it was out in the open. She was very concerned. Not just about his slightly lacking performance but about him as a friend as well. And she made her intention clear, not leaving him with much choice: If he did not want to be sentenced off-duty through doctor’s orders, he was having either to deal with the insomnia himself or to get her help.  
He had denied it then. Of course. He always did. He was far too damn proud for that. Though he was always second-guessing himself afterwards. Like he was now. Especially since it was now again made so very clear to him, which devastating consequences every minor decision could tail after itself.

His pondering lead him back into his bedroom.  
Lost in thought he ordered: "Computer, time."  
The female monotone response came without hesitation:  
"3.47 a.m."  
A low sound of displeasure rumbled deep in his throat. He had only been sleeping for about half an hour and he felt even worse than before. Since reading a very exhausting bed lecture had not provided him with the desired calming effect, he slowly ran out of ideas.

“Computer, current location of Dr. Crusher.” He ordered as he stripped off his sweat-soaked pyjamas and threw them onto the bed along with his discarded blanket.

“Dr. Crusher is in her quarters.” Came the immediate response. Where else would she be so late at night? - Apart from sickbay of course. Most likely she was curled up in bed, sleeping soundly. Unlike him, she seemed to be dealing well with what they had been through.

He decided a quick shower and a stroll through the corridors would – probably, _hopefully_ – get him tired enough to attempt for at least another hour of sleep before he had to get up for duty.


	2. CHAPTER II

_Leise singt er seine Lieder,_

_die schon hundert Jahre alt._

 

Beverly Crusher sat comfortably against the armrest of her couch. A PADD rested on her bent legs and she thoughtfully scrolled through a medical report of a surgical intervention she had carried out late this evening. Unforeseen complications had stretched the surgery far beyond its schedule. Now she was revising the procedure in search for a reason. Until now she had found no explanation for the sudden outbreak of a searing fever. The situation was brought back under control by administration of several antipyretic agents. It had taken them crucially important minutes to find medication that actually showed any effect at all. And it had thrown them back in their actual progress on replacing a defective artificial organ.

Since there was no error in the procedure itself evident, she assumed it might be a hidden infection they had not yet been able to detect. After she had taken her team through the entire surgery, Dr. Selar had taken over for her and recommended her to get some sleep before she went on searching for it. She was about to protest when she remembered her own preaching about the importance of sleep the day before. Therefore, after she had made sure the fever was kept at bay and the patient was not in pain, she had retreated to her quarters. By then it had been far past midnight. Now she did not even dare asking for the time. She had lost track of it, when she had immersed herself in her research.

Stifling a yawn, she laid the PADD back onto the couch table and reached for her shawl. She wrapped the woollen cloth around her shoulders and strolled over to the replicator.

“Warm chamomile tea.”

With a silent sparkling frizzle, the beverage swished into existence and she carefully took it out of the replicator’s alcove. She sipped on it as she headed for her bedroom, unconsciously humming a tune that had been stuck in her head for some days.

She was about to sit on her bed, when the door chime interrupted her gentle melody. A smile curved her lips as she already had an inkling who was daring to disturb her night's rest.

 

 

His feet had carried him almost automatically to her door without much further thinking. As she was carried to his, when something was heavy on her heart.

His mind was now again circling the incident of weeks ago. Trelane, a youth from the Q continuum - albeit a few thousand years old already - had been brought to the _Enterprise_ by Q himself. Trelane, who proved to be very pesky child on the verge of teenage, was Q’s protégée and Q – much to his dissatisfaction – had been unable to cope with his reckless behaviour. One had lead to the other and Trelane had quickly tuned from a pesky child into an actual danger for the universe. He had meddled with powers he was not able to grasp and subsequently decided that the multiverse was something he despised – and he had begun to erase the boundaries between three different lines of reality. The results had been devastating. People were met with long dead friends and family or children never born in their reality. All hell had broken loose when friends had turned to foes and the other way around. They had been replaced by themselves from other realities and had in turn taken their place within seconds. They had witnessed foreign but strangely familiar lives, their decisions and accidentally meddled with their affairs while their alter egos had done the same with theirs. It had been a great and very confusing mess. 

Along with all of that, Jack Crusher had reappeared on the _Enterprise_ and send Beverly through absolute horror with his pent up anger - which he had brought from the alternate reality he originated from. Apparently, he and Beverly had been divorced in that life. And for all he knew, Picard himself was partly a reason for that. He did not quite know if there actually had ever been an affair between him and her in this Jack Crusher’s dimension, but it was - guessing from his behaviour - the fuel for his ire. Which had eventually resulted in-…

He disposed of the thought and the image that accompanied it quickly. A grimace of pain flickered across his face before he schooled it back into his ever so stoic expression.

Maybe it had not been a good idea to come here tonight. He certainly would not get any more sleep like this. Seeing her would just bring back the horrifiying images. Nevertheless, he raised his hand and hit the chime. _No going back now_ , he told himself as he waited. _If she is awake, that is_.

Uncertainty eventually overtook him and he turned on his heel. Of course she was asleep, what else had he expected? Maybe some hiking on the holodeck would soothe his worn down nerves-

The door swished open behind him. “Jean-Luc?”

He winced, barely visible, under her questioning tone and instantly felt, for some reason, like caught in the act. Quickly he shoved the thought away and turned back to her, his outer appearance not telling a trace of the turmoil of emotions that surged through him.

“Beverly?” he responded in kind as he noticed her just being in her pyjamas, her soft shawl dragged lazily around her shoulders. She looked… gorgeous. There was no denying that.

“I did not mean to wake you. I-“

He broke off as she shook her head with a simple smile.

“I was not sleeping. I’ve been working until about five minutes ago. Some complications in surgery kept me up, reading.”

As he made no move to enter, she stepped aside and gestured him to follow her into her quarters. Obediently he followed and took his place in the armchair opposite of her sofa. He was already sunken back into the depth of his thoughts as she sat down a cup of tea on the table right in front of him.

“Valerian.”, she offered as an explanation as he took it and carefully sipped on it.

“With a hint of honey. It helps you calm down. You should drink it more often. It would help you get some sleep.”

He knit his eyebrows together as he put the delicate white cup back on the table.

“It’s really that obvious, isn’t it?”

Despite her worry, a merry twinkle in her blue eyes accompanied her smile.

“Apart from the fact that you’re sitting in my quarters in the middle of the night, you look like death itself.”

“Why, thank you.” he responded and mirrored her lopsided smile briefly. Obviously too soon for her liking, his features turned thoughtful again. He leaned back in her armchair and studied her absentmindedly. Her fiery hair was slightly ruffled. With no doubt from her late night work. Her lithe body was clad in light blue flannel pyjamas, which she seemed to be very comfortable in. Her feet, which she had drawn beside her onto the couch, were bare. How he had envied Jack back then for being able to see her – touch her like this… A wiggle of her toes brought his attention back to her face. _Busted_ , he thought as he noticed the knowing smile that lingered on her lips. Oh how she obviously enjoyed this so very much. Teasing him with seductive gazes, gestures, tiny touches here and there. Just to walk out on him again when he just mustered up the courage to take it a little further. By now he was so accustomed to it, it had become a game for either of them. They were balancing on a fine line between friendship and a little more than that. And neither of them dared to take the next step.

His alter ego from the other reality seemed to have been bolder in this aspect. Now he was entirely alone…

“Penny?”

The single word startled him out of his thoughts and caught him off-guard. She chuckled.

“Always the same with you. You constantly drift off when you're around me. Penny for you thoughts of course.”

An unneeded but welcome explanation by now and he couldn’t help but smile about her ever-present curiosity.

“I’ve been thinking about our arrival at earth in two days.” he lied without any hesitation.

“Are you planning to go on shore leave? I've requested it for the crew. Many are very worn out by this recent encounter with the Q.”

She nodded but did not take his bait to pursue the topic of shore leave any further. Instead she focused back on her actual aim.

“There is something keeping you up at night as well.” she went on and her attentive eyes never left his. “And you came here to put your mind at ease.”

He raised a questioning brow at her.

“And there I thought our mental link was shut off. Seems you still carry some empathic abilities.” he deadpanned, eliciting another chuckle from her.

“Tell me about it, Jean-Luc.”

He shook his head and her smile dropped slightly.

“If I needed to talk, I would have paid Deanna a visit.” he responded and leaned forward to snatch his cup from the table and take another sip of his tea.

“If you needed to talk to a _counsellor_ you would have gone to Deanna. If you needed advice from a _close friend_ , you would have come to me. And here you are.”

 _Yes, here I am_ , he thought to himself, _the holodeck would have been the easier choice._

“Beverly, don’t misunderstand me, I appreciate your concern for me and my sleepless nights, but I do not think it would be wise for me to tell you right now what is keeping me up. I came here in an attempt for a nice chat and some tea to – as you phrased it – put my mind at ease. Relax. Get my head clear.”

 _Enjoy your company_ , he added in his mind, _make sure you’re really still here with me…_

She understood immediately and did not urge him any further. However, the fine lines of worry remained etched onto her beautiful face. Those gracefully curved features, framed by fiery red waves.

“Alright. Stay as long as you need to.” she eventually said and reached for the PADD to resume her reading. As long as he was here, drinking his tea, she had some more time to indulge into her work.

Thankful for her invitation he sunk back into the armchair and watched her as she immersed herself in whatever research she was working on. And as he did, he had no chance to even notice his exhaustion overpowering him and his leaden lids finally dropping closed…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very welcome! Since english is not my first language, don't by shy to point out any error you spot. I'm constantly trying to improve my writing.


	3. CHAPTER III

A soft snore made Beverly’s head snap up in confusion. She had been so lost in her studies, she had blended out everything around her, including his presence. Now she again became fully aware of him, as she turned and found Jean-Luc sleeping soundly in her armchair. One of his hands dangled limply over the armrest, which it had slid off sometime earlier. His head had lolled towards the seat back and was now resting sideways against the cushioned surface. The soft snoring resounded from his mouth, which was slightly agape. It was not an unpleasant sound. Rather a kind of deep, slow breathing than actual snoring. It made him seem at peace for once. His ever so stoic face was now relaxed, the lines of worry on his forehead evened out. It almost made her wonder how it would feel to curl up against his side and fall asleep to the soothing sound of his heart.

Almost. But she dismissed the thought. This was neither the place nor the time to fantasize. Especially not after her very disturbing encounter with her late husband from another reality.

Putting the PADD back to its respective place, she got to her feet and silently rounded the table. Without a sound, she slipped the woollen shawl from her shoulders and covered Picard gently in the warm fabric. With a discontent grumble, he stirred in his sleep and shifted himself into a more comfortable position, his chin, slightly tilted, now resting on his chest.

She pressed her lips into a thin line to keep herself from chuckling over his adorably innocent reaction.

She had seldomly seen him sleeping until now. When they had spent the night on Kesprytt by the campfire, it had been one of those rare occasions. Back then already, she had wondered how this proud and stoic man managed to look this peaceful and almost vulnerable in his sleep. It was astonishing - and very relieving. Right now he seemed to be resting well and she would not risk waking him up with her presence. He needed sleep so desperately, she would not dare sending him away now.

Silently she tiptoed back into her bedroom, extinguished the lights and slid under the soft covers of her bed. The smile still lingered on her face, when she drifted off into her own dreams…

 

 

She woke up about two minutes before her alarm would have gone off. Her internal clock was just as precise as usual. With a yawn she stretched her tired limbs and slipped out of her bed into the semi-dark room, which was dimly illuminated by the headlights to simulate their artificial diurnal rhythm.

She rubbed her upper arms in search of her shawl as she remembered where she had left it last evening. Curiosity led her back into the living room – but she just found what she had already expected. The table was cleaned off, her shawl laid neatly folded on her otherwise empty armchair. Nobody was there apart from herself. She had not heard him leaving and he had left no indication when he had headed back for his own quarters. She just hoped he had been able to get enough sleep to get through his daily routine for now.

 

 

Jean-Luc Picard sat in his ready room and ended his conversation with Starfleet. They just had been granted ten days of shore leave in order to visit their relatives and friends while the _Enterprise_ was kept in spacedock for a standard check and work-over. A few minor adjustments to enhance the efficiency of their warpdrive, he had been told. Nothing life changing. The detailed schedule would be send in the late afternoon and he already set up a meeting with Geordi LaForge to go over it.

His presence was not essentially necessary throughout the _Enterprise’s_ stay in spacedock. Under normal circumstances, he would most likely stay a few days nevertheless, to oversee most of the work done. Taking a deep breath, he propped up his elbows on his desk and ran his hands over his face. His situation now was slightly different. He knew himself well enough to predict himself pacing in his quarters at night if he did not get some change of scenery.

He had heard of an archeologic exhibit in London, which was touring from one federation planet to the next. It was a pleasant coincidence that it had reached earth just in time for their shore leave. A spark of anticipation lit in him. Maybe he would take a trip there to break his daily routine and get his mind off things. He would read into it later this evening. If he was lucky, the change of pace would enable him to get some more sleep. Just as he had found, at least for a few minutes, last night.

He had awoken about an hour ago in an armchair that was not his, thoroughly confused about his whereabouts. Stretching his aching back, he had straightened himself up. Memory came back to him, as Beverly’s woollen shawl slipped off his shoulders and into his lap. Her fragrant scent still lingered on his tunic. A glance to the chronometer in her living room confirmed his guess. By now it was about six in the morning and he was due for duty in half an hour. He had cleaned up after their late night meeting and hurried back to his quarters to refresh himself before he headed for the bridge. That was when the call from Starfleet had come in. He now resumed to follow his earlier intentions and left his ready room for the bridge.

 

 

Beverly had just finished her breakfast, when her combadge had startled her out of her thoughts.

“Sickbay to Dr. Crusher,” came the urgent voice of nurse Ogawa through the intercom, “Mr. Walker’s condition has just worsened. His fever has risen back to 40.2 degrees and he’s hallucinating.”

In seconds she was back to her feet and her attempt on cleaning the breakfast table was forgotten.

“I’ll be right there.” She answered sternly over the communications system and slid into her labcoat before she hurried off to sickbay.


	4. CHAPTER IV

As soon as Beverly entered sickbay, the screeching of panic reached her ears and made her shudder involuntarily. She quickly rounded the corner and spotted the noise‘s origin.

Ethan Walker had backed up against a wall and was kicking in the general direction of two security officers who tried to seize him.  
Nurse Ogawa kneeled between them, a hypospray in her right hand, probably trying to sedate the terrified man.

Both his eyes were wide open in utter fear and he was staring at something that only he could see. His screams were deafening.

Finally the security personal succeeded in holding him fast enough for nurse Ogawa to administer the hypo.  
His screaming ebbed off and he sank back against the wall, his body dropping slack to the floor. He was still staring at something, mumbling incoherent words and syllables.

"Get him back on his bed," Dr. Crusher ordered "and restrain him."  
If he went on thrashing around like that, the risk was high he would rupture the fresh tissue around his implant.

As he was eventually secured on his biobed, she went on examining him. He was quite lucky under the circumstances, that it hadn't already happened. Admistering the antifebrile medication, she turned to Ogawa for an explanation.

The younger woman watched their patient with growing concern as she spoke.  
"He made it well through the night. He even was concious once and able to ask for his condition. Early this morning - around 5 a.m. - his fever began to rise. First slowly and we were able to lower his temperature using the antipyretics. But suddenly his temperature shot through the roof and he turned delusional. He asked us several times to clear the rooms of some lurking shadows he was seeing. As we tried to calm him, his hallucinations worsened and he bolted off the bed screaming."

Beverly frowned deeply and crossed her arms infront of her chest. The adminstered medication against the raging fever seemed to have no effect anylonger. Whatever had infected him was quick to adjust to any medication given.  
She nodded in determination and grabbed her tricorder.  
"Alright, let's get to work and eradicate this germ."

 

The morning had held no surpises. Neither pleasant, nor discomforting. Their arrival at sector 1 was coming closer with every passing hour. After he had spend some time on the bridge, Picard had retreated to his ready room to read through the schedule for the _Enterprise's_ stay in space dock.

Though he had - of course - basic knowledge about his ship and her engine, most of the given information was meant for engineering and hard to grasp for laymen. So instead of trying to figure out its meaning by himself, he went to the observation lounge to meet with Geordi and have it explained in detail.

As things turned out, the warp engine would gain minor enhancements and would require a few testflights afterwards, just to make sure it was functioning flawlessly. He left the the meeting with raised spirits and funneled his positivity into a dinner invitation for Beverly Crusher, which he send to her as a typed message.

As he knew her, the chance was high she had actually enjoyed his late night visit yesterday. He nevertheless felt like apologizing for the inconvenience. Or better to thank her for her patience and care. It was after all due to her soothing presence that he had gotten at least a little bit of sleep after nights of restlessness.

 

Dr.Crusher shook her head in frustration as she studied the readings on her tricorder along with the other data they had gathered over the past few hours. It was simply enraging. No matter what they tried, no matter what medication they came up with, the pathogen seemed to adapt to it within minutes.

And their patient was fading further as time went by mercilessly. There was nothing they could do apart from keeping him unconcious to suppress pain and the terryifing, feverish hallucinations.

She dropped into her office chair, for the moment bested by exhaustion, and considered their further options. Despite the _Enterprise's_ considerable equipment in sickbay, some of their methods were limited. Starfleet medical on earth was far better equipped with further developed medical devices and highly specialiced staff. There it was all state-of-the-art.

In an desperate attempt to get any further with her research she punched up the contact to her collegues at Starfleet medical. Any new idea or suggestion was welcome.

The resulting conversation was disappointing. No new insights, no suggestions she had not come up with herself yet. Eventually they had come to the conclusion that all she could do was resume her research and keep Mr. Walker alive until they reached earth to give him over into the hopsital for more precise examination.

She was about to go on with her work, as a tiny symbol on her sceen caught her attention. Interested she opened her text messages and Jean-Luc's invitaion popped up on her screen. It almost brought a smile to her face, but the dire situation kept her from actually feeling very happy about it.

Nevertheless she send him her promise to meet him at his suggested time in his quarters. Like this, at least the evening held some positivity she could look forward to.

 

He had read her answer and despite it being very terse, he looked forward to their evening with pleasant anticipation. As he finished the alpha-shift along with the present bridge crew, he gave his place over to Data and left for his quarters.

A content smile was lingering on his lips as he set the table and chose the evenings bottle of wine. As his guest's arrival inched closer, he strode over to the replicator and ordered the menu he had chosen for tonight.  
Then he picked a book, sat down and waited...


	5. CHAPTER V

Beverly was in a hurry. She slipped out of her labcoat and uniform and threw both over the back of her armchair. She had not meant to keep him waiting, but she had not been left with any choice. She had just packed up and was about to leave sickbay, when one of the two guards from earlier had suddenly collapsed right where he stood.

Her hunch on the cause for his collapse had quickly proved to be true. He showed equal symptoms to Mr. Walker. Searing fever and disturbing hallucinations. It had taken them far too long to find a medication that would keep the infection at bay, before she could even think of leaving for the night.

Both men were now put under quarantine and the entire staff had been briefed to inform sickbay over any change in their own health. There was no reason for panic yet. Only two people had fallen sick. But an infection like this could quickly turn into a pandemic. They had to proceed with every caution so it would not spread any further throughout the ship.

Now back in her quarters, she had slipped on a turquoise knitted sweater. Its wide neckline revealed just enough skin to make every male wonder what lay beneath the rest of its lose fitting fabric. Adding to it she chose simple grey pants.

After this tiring day, there was the need for something comfortable to wear. Satisfied with her looks – as much as she could be with the short time given – she rushed to Picard's quarters and hit the chime.

First there was no response and she wondered if she had left him waiting long enough to have left by now. Then she heard his common "Come" and the door swished open as she took a step forward.

She found him sitting at his table, comfortably leaned back, a closed book with an old, leathery cover resting in his hands. He had one index finger slipped in between the pages to remember where he had just left off reading. 

"Sorry, I kept you waiting," she began to apologize, "There was-"   
"-an emergency in sickbay." He finished her sentence, the hint of a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. He did know her too well.

"Nothing serious, I hope?"   
She walked over to him and sat down on the tables opposite.   
"I do hope so. We've had two cases of an unknown infection since yesterday. We're working around the clock to define its origin and to come up with a cure, but with no success yet." 

He frowned as he reached out and took her glass from her hand to pour her some wine.   
"An infection? Lethal or not?" 

Beverly shifted uncomfortably.   
"It may be if we're not successful any time soon. I've already been in contact with Starfleet medical to take them into this. Any new idea might be helpful." 

He nodded his understanding, laid a bookmark into his book and went over to the replicator, to get them their dinner. The second time this evening since his first try had gone cold about an hour ago.   
"Keep me informed about it, but don't spread the information among the crew yet. Another panic is the last thing we need after Trelane's visit."

The crew was battered enough already. She could fully understand his intentions to keep this low for now. He did trust her abilities to find a cure - before the infection posed an actual danger to many.

For a while they shared their dinner in silence, occasionally catching eachothers gaze. Until she felt like speaking up again.   
"What are your plans for shore leave?"

He set his glass down before he resumed his dinner.   
"I was planning to visit an archeological exhibition in London. Then spend a few days there for a change of pace."

"Would you mind my company?"

He paused and raised his gaze to meet hers, searching her beautiful blue eyes for a reason to her sudden question. Carefully he picked his anwer.   
"I'd enjoy your company."

A smile curved her lips as she thoughtfully swirled the remaining liquid in her glass.   
"Then I'd be happy to accompany you. It's been some time since I've last visited London. And I won't be late this time, I promise."   
A merry twinkle lit her eyes as she leaned back and studied his face. Despite the lopsided smile that lingered there, she could read a hint of uncertainty in his hazel eyes.

"I guess you haven't booked anything yet. Why don't you take over picking daily activities - like the exhibition - and I'll take care of a place to stay at night. I'll pick something very relaxing. I do think that would do us both some good."

Now it had clicked and he seemed to have understood. She was referring to his late night visit and aiming to get him to sleep. She had already made her worry clear. And she would not let the chance pass to have an eye on his health. As his doctor and as his friend. And he would certainly not pass on the chance to spend a few days with her in London. With a nod he complied.

"Very well. It's a deal then."


	6. CHAPTER VI

Beverly leaned back with a satisfied smile. She had been very lucky just now. Years ago, a colleague from Starfleet medical had given her a personal tip for a beautiful stay in London. A tiny hotel, well hidden within the buzz of London's daily activity. The owner apparently seemed to be very fond of the twentieth century and had designed the apartments accordingly. There were no turbolifts, no replicators, no Starfleet. The perfect place to get a little distance to their daily routine. Despite it being a secret tip, it usually was booked out years before. Since planning ahead for years was quite impossible when being CMO on the flagship, she had long given up on the idea of getting to stay there.

Just out of pure curiosity she had send a request and was surprised to get a positive answer. A young couple had cancelled their travel plans this morning and their suite was free for one week. She had not hesitated a moment to book it.  
Now she was reading though the details of the apartment. There was, as expected, just one master bedroom. But that would not pose a big problem. The suite had a guest room with a just as comfortable single bed. There was a living room with a fireplace side by side with a common twentieth century kitchen. Since there was no replicator, it was equipped with a stove, fridge and several cupboards to keep the dishes.  
A smile lit her face. It had been some time since she had last cooked all by herself. Hopefully she had not forgotten all about it by now. She already had some recipes in mind she would try recreating.

The bathroom was, without a doubt, beautiful. A large tub set at the back of the room, very inviting to let yourself drop into the warmth of a fluffy bubble bath. She could already imagine the feeling of sinking herself into the soft, warm clouds of bubbles.  
With closed eyes she stretched her tired limbs and got out of her chair. Relaxation would have to wait until they reached their destination. In about three hours they would dock and head off to London. It was time to finish up packing and check on Sickbay, before she could go into her much deserved shore leave.

 

Picard supervised their docking at the space station attentively. He relied on his crew to master the delicate task, as they always did. Despite it being a well-trained maneuver, it nevertheless send a nervous tingle through all hands on board, including their captain. Not essentially because it was very difficult, but as it usually went along with a change of pace. This time, it brought them their well-earned time with their families and friends.

About half an hour later, the crew was filing out through several access points, duffelbag in hand and ready for their vacation. Expressions of giddy anticipation and relief laid upon all faces. Picard was among them, having given over his ship to the skeleton crew of engineers, who had come aboard for the modifications.

As he left the _Enterprise_ he could not help but gaze back once from afar, for this ship was more his home than any place had ever been to. Each time he turned it over to someone else, he felt the same strange tugging uneasiness in his chest. However, he nodded once and faced back to the transporter pad ahead of him, where he had agreed on meeting Beverly. He silently promised himself that the next seven days with her would quickly let him forget about any hint of homesickness he would experience.

 

When Dr. Crusher had reached Sickbay, she was greeted by Alyssa Ogawa, who was slightly out of breath. Just a few minutes ago, one new case of the mysterious infection had been taken to Sickbay. A young nurse who had been on duty while Mr. Walkers surgery was conducted. As Alyssa reported, all three patients were still burning a high fever and there was no significant improvement visible.

With a sigh, Beverly ran a hand through her red hair, ruffling it in the process.

“I should probably stay and have an eye on-“

“No.”, said Alyssa, schooling her features into a stern expression. Beverly raised her gaze at her in surprise. The younger woman went on, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards in the slightest bit. Her warm eyes betrayed her try to be unyielding.

“Starfleet medical has already contacted us. They will be taking the patients over to their facility in a few minutes. We all need rest. You included Dr. Crusher, if I may say so.”

A wan smile curved Beverly’s lips as she nodded in understanding.

“You’re right, Alyssa. Thank you.”

Of course she was. Beverly knew that. And she was happy about it, glad to share the full next week with the most comfortable company she could imagine to get. It would be a wonderful vacation. But still, the thought of turning her patients over to someone else made her uneasy. Not just because she felt like it was her responsibility, but also because it kept her from overthinking. She had funnelled all her concentration into her work so there had been no time to ponder on the recent events. She would have to keep herself very busy to not drift off into endless rumination.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation she eventually left sickbay, after all three patients were safely transferred to the hospital.

With her small suitcase in tow, she headed for the transporter pad and spotted Jean-Luc leaning against a column close by. Guessing from his posture - duffelbag dropped beside his feet, his arms crossed - he must have been waiting for some time. His face lit, as his gaze fell upon her. He picked up his luggage as she caught up to him.

“Good morning, Captain.” She greeted him.

He smiled in response. “Good morning, Doctor. I assume you found us an overnight accommodation?”

The mirth returned to her eyes as she thought of their upcoming stay.

“I did indeed. Let yourself be surprised.”

He arched a questioning brow but got nothing but her mysterious smile in return, as they stepped onto the transporter pad and Beverly announced their destined location.

In a frizzling light, their bodies dissolved and reassembled amidst the many travellers of London.

Fortunately, the walking distance from the transporter station to their destination was not too far. Beverly, who had memorized the way by heart, took the lead. Side by side they made their way in comfortable silence, right through London’s misty streets. Autumn made itself very tangible. The cool, damp air send a shiver through Beverly’s body as they rounded a street’s corner and found themselves right in front of the hotel.

Nestled in between two monumental white and glass-covered buildings stood - strangely misplaced - a tiny timbre-framed house.

“Now that is a surprise.” Declared Picard as he followed his excited companion inside. A warm and soothing atmosphere greeted them. The interior was kept very traditional. The walls were painted stark white, crisscrossed by dark wooden beams, and the room was filled with equally wooden furnishings. Flowerpots covered several sideboards and tables. At the opposite wall they spotted a lengthy counter. Behind it stood a young receptionist. He greeted his guest politely as Beverly strode over to him and introduced herself to claim her reservation.

Picard was still in awe of his surroundings, smiling distantly, as Beverly came back to him. She held the keys of their suite up and let them jingle to attract his attention.

Caught woolgathering, he turned to her.

“This reminds me a lot of my childhood home.” He admitted to her questioning gaze.

“Wait until you see our apartment.” Was her answer before she led him up the tiled stairs. He followed her obediently and watched her with growing curiosity as she unlocked the door to their flatlet. A slight wave of nervousness ran through his body as he questioned if it had been the right choice to leave the booking of their hotel to Beverly. Heavens knew what she had come up with.

As they stepped into their apartment, his concerns dissipated quickly. They found themselves in a neatly furnished living room. The choice of furniture was close to the one in the entrance hall. Mostly wooden and natural. Into the left wall, right between two closed doors, was a fireplace embedded. The couch and the armchair right in front of it were very inviting. Despite his lingering fatigue, he resisted the urge to let himself drop onto the cushioned surface immediately. There would be enough time for hat later, when they got a fire burning. Instead he went to explore the adjoining rooms. Beverly had already bolted off into the other direction to take in the sight of the luxurious bathroom.

He could hear her joyful exclamations as he entered one of the remaining rooms – and froze right in the doorframe. His startled gaze was locked onto the king-sized double bed, which stood ahead of him. His mouth went dry as his mind raced through the possibilities that led to this very moment. He settled for the explanation, that this had to be a simple mistake. He was about to turn and search for her, when Beverly already had caught up to him and leaned in over his shoulder to peer into the room.

“Beverly,” he rasped in an attempt to voice his bewilderment, but she already smirked at him knowingly. There was absolutely no doubt she knew exactly what had went through his head.

“Jean-Luc, why don’t you take a look into the other room.” She chuckled and left him standing, as she went to check out the kitchen.

Frowning he followed her suggestion and found another comfortable single bed in the room next to the master bedroom. A sigh of relief left him, as he dropped his bag onto the covers. So there had been no unfortunate mistake. And no hidden intention either. He would not admit aloud, that he also felt a hint of disappointment to that realization…

 

Beverly smiled contentedly to herself, as she picked two cups and a teapot out of the cupboard. She could not deny that his reaction just now had been very adorable. She did not know if he ever did notice himself, but the tips of his ears had turned redder with every passing second - obviously telling everything that was on his mind as he stared at the double bed.

She could very well imagine it. Especially since she had witnessed part of his dreams on Kessprytt… Secret dreams he would never speak aloud, for being the courteous gentleman he was. She could not blame him at all. Neither for his dreams when he was asleep, nor for the ones he had when being awake.

She had caught herself quite a few times wondering what it would feel like to sleep by his side, safely wrapped up in his protective embrace. She imagined his warm breath fanning softly against the back of her neck, his soothing scent lingering all around her. The imagination made her heart flutter.

A forlorn sigh left her lips as she poured steaming hot water from the kettle into both cups. She had creeping sense of forboding that this stay might turn into an emotional rollercoaster for both of them. Who knew what outcome would await them at the end of this week…


	7. CHAPTER VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, there we go with our rollercoaster ride of emotions! Have fun. :)

The decision of who resided in which room had been made very quickly. Picard had determined the smaller bed to be his and Beverly knew him far too well to even think of arguing with him over that. He would not change his firm resolution.

Now she was sitting comfortably in the armchair and watched him with interest as he struggled to light the recalcitrant fireplace. As finally a hesitant flame licked up against the brick-built walls, he retreated to his seat on the couch. He left his slippers on the floor and laid himself lengthways onto the cushioned surface, grabbing his book in the process. Not noticing her watching, he stuck his nose into it and instantly was lost in whatever he was reading.

Absentmindedly Beverly smiled at his fully relaxed posture. He laid leaned back against the armrest and had his knees drawn to him, just enough to rest his lecture on it. It was so very unusual to see him so unwound and comfortable. It stood in such a contrast to his customary upright demeanour. Even in the serene moments of their shared breakfasts aboard the ship, he had never been just as calm and open as he was now. It further strengthened her resolve that this was the best decision to rid him of his constant wakefulness.

Her eyes travelled back up his body and she noticed him peering at her over the pages of his book, wordlessly observing her.

“What are you reading?” She asked to break the awkward silence that arose. His eyes flickered back to his book, as if forgotten he still held it in his hands.

“Sagas and myths collected throughout the galaxy. Guinan lent it to me before we left. There are a lot of very interesting parallels in stories of different cultures that effectively never met.” He concluded and she tilted her head slightly.

“That actually does sound interesting. May I read it when you’re through with it?”

He nodded and regarded her for a brief moment. She though he was about to say something, but in the last moment he refrained from it and focused back on his book. She wondered if he had been aiming to talk about something that was on his mind. The something that kept him up at night.

She would not push him to speak about it. Even if she did, as stubborn as he was, he would probably not give in to her pushing anyways. But she knew he would open up to her, when he was ready for it. After all she was one of his closest friends. If he did confide in anybody, it was usually her.  
  
But there was no use in pondering on it now. Instead she would make good use of the time and try out the very inviting bathtub, before she headed to bed. She knew well he could not await to explore the exhibition tomorrow. And he certainly was an early bird. Even on vacation. There would be no time for her to sleep in.  
With a stretch of her tired limbs, she got up and let him in on her plans for the evening, before she went off to fetch her stuff for a very relaxing bath...  
  
Picard watched her somberly as she disappeared into the bathroom. He silently prayed he would stay quiet this night, despite his awful nightmares...

 

His prayers did get answered tonight. He was not thrashing, not screaming, not cursing.

Instead he was weeping quietly as his eyes shot open in the darkness of his room. Thick, hot tears were streaming down his face as slowly sat up in his bed.  
Seconds ago he had been kneeling in Sickbay. Her broken body had been cradled in his lap, lifeless and cold. The warmth of her eyes was irretrievably gone.

He supressed a sob that racked his trembling body. Helplessly he wrapped his arms around his blanket in a desperate attempt to find some purchase. But there was none.

He was empty. And even the fact that Beverly was sleeping right in the next room, breathing and curled up beneath her warm blanket, could not erase the horrible image from his mind.  
With huge effort he resisted the growing urge to go to her room to make sure she really was. He did not need her to see him like this. Never.

So he dropped back onto the mattress, defeated and broken, to get at least another hour of sleep.

 

The breakfast was silent. Beverly had noticed the red rims beneath his eyes immediately. So he had not been sleeping enough. Maybe not at all.

She scolded herself for not having checked on him. On the other hand she was sure he would not have been very happy of it.  
Nevertheless, she promised herself to take a peek on him in the following night. Out of medical purposes. And because he worried her more with every passing night.

For now she focused on motivating him for the archaeological exhibition he had anticipated so excitedly.  
Soon both went off side by side and she was glad his mood had lifted to new heights when they dove themselves into the masses of priced artefacts.  
She revelled in the youthful joy she could read on his face whenever he would explain some additional information in detail that was not provided by the label beside each exhibition piece.  
  
When her feet were aching from standing and walking through the display for hours, he finally gave in to her plea to quit for the day and head for some tea in one of the neat cafés on their way back. But only if she promised him, they would come back once before the end of their stay. With a chuckle, she gave him her word.

 

It was late afternoon as they ended their stroll through the leaf-covered streets of London, as a light drizzle of rain set in and let then quicken their walk home. Soon the drizzle turned heavier and before they knew it was raining pitchforks.

The rain had no mercy for them as they hurried down the streets. Relentlessly it came pouring down onto them until they eventually reached the safety of their hotel suite.

Drenched from head to toe and huffing for air, they stood in the doorway of their shared living room and regarded each other’s respective state of soddeness. As a lopsided grin spread across the captain’s face, Beverly could not help but dissolve into giggles. His clothes clung slick to every inch of his body and he was dripping incessantly.

“Better get yourself changed.” She suggested, still trying to contain her laugher.

“I can’t have you catch a cold on our only vacation.”

He chuckled heartily in response.

“At least I’d have a reliable Doctor around to nurse me back to health if I did.”

With that said, he disappeared into his bedroom, leaving a trail of droplets on the carpet. Beverly retreated to her own with a smile still lingering on her face.

She doffed the drenched clothes, not very surprised even her underwear was helplessly soaked. With a content sigh, she slipped into a comfortable nightdress and snuggled into her fluffy dressing gown. As she emerged from her room, Jean-Luc was already kneeling on the carpeted floor in front of the fireside. He had draped a towel around his neck and his evening coat was loosely bound around his body.

In fact, the carpet did suddenly look very comfortable. So instead of heading for the sofa, Beverly flopped down beside him, slightly startling him as she did. He shot her a curious glance, before he focused back on getting the fire burning.

The lingering damp scent of rain soon mixed with the smoky odour of burning wood and she closed her eyes, revelling in the soothing warmth.

She did not notice his subtle movements beside her until she felt the soft towel land on her head and his hands gently began to rub her hair dry. The tender gesture made her smile widen and she unconsciously leaned back into his touch.

Picard acknowledged her advance and took it as his cue to go on. With great care not to rub any knots into her silken hair, he dried the flaming red and let the towel slip around her shoulders, as he was satisfied with his work.

The hint of a pout flashed over her face, as his caresses ceased and she blinked at him, eyes half-lidded in contentment. There were no words needed for either of them to convey they had enjoyed the moment. And Beverly was not yet ready to end it with this.

A wicked glint flickered in her blue eyes, as gave in to the pleasant tingling in her stomach, that urged her to prolong it.

“Turn?” she asked him, basking in the warmth of his gaze. He arched a brow, but did not question her plea. Obediently he turned, studying her over his shoulder. She raised her index finger and again motioned him to turn his back fully in her direction. Hesitantly he faced away from her, bracing himself for whatever mischief she had come up with. He could almost imagine her smirking at him from behind.

He was pleasantly surprised as she tenderly ran the tips of her fingers over the tense muscles in his shoulders. The day’s activities had, despite them being very entertaining, left their traces along with the remaining stress of his working routine.

Beverly could feel the tight knots in his shoulders and thoroughly worked her thumbs over his aching back. A content hum rumbled deep in his throat, as she massaged an especially tight spot right above his shoulder blades. The sound send a blissful shiver down her spine.

Slowly she worked her way down his back and eased any tension she came across. As she reached his lower ribs, she could not help but inch a bit forward to catch a glimpse of his relaxed expression.

As she did, her fingers brushed his sides and he jumped, a startled gasp leaving his mouth. He shot her a wary gaze, eyes narrowing only the tiniest bit.

Quickly she muttered an apology. “I didn’t realize you were that tense. Here, let me help.”

Now she intentionally rubbed her fingers ever so gently over his waist before he even stood the chance to protest.

This time she earned another jolt and an undefined sound that was clearly somewhere in between a muffled curse and snort.

It dawned on her then and she stared at him, lips pressed into a thin line, to keep herself from laughing out loud. He was about to protest very sternly as she dove into her newly found occupation. Relentlessly she dug her fingers into his sides, giggling as he yelped in surprise, jerking and squirming under her assault.

Instantly he was two feet away from her, bracing himself against her attack with both arms, shivering involuntarily. His very distraught exclamation of “Beverly!” only send her laughing harder. Soon she had recovered and wiped the tears of laugher from her eyes, as he still stared at her with as much reproach as he could muster. At last he gave in to her mirth and left his arms drop to his sides in defeat.

“My,” began Beverly, still chuckling lightly, “If I had known earlier how ticklish you are, I would have had a lot of fun.”

He raised in his chin in a desperate attempt to save some of his wounded dignity.

“You wouldn’t dare-“

“Well, I just did.”

Her giggling turned back into a smile that reached her eyes and threatened to melt his heart right away. Whatever he did, in the end, he was never left with any other choice, but to surrender to her charms. How could he ever resist the warmth and affection radiating from her vibrant eyes.

He shook his head slowly, surrendering to her infectious cheerfulness.

“I won’t tell anyone.” She promised as she leaned in and let her hand rest on his for a moment, before she stood an stretched herself.

“This will be my secret.”

With that she turned and headed for the bathroom, leaving him sitting speechless, a turmoil of emotions raging through his body.


	8. CHAPTER IIX

Beverly had soon gone to bed. The bath had been a welcome relaxation and as soon as she had sunken herself into the foam-topped, flower-scented water, she had  
become fully aware of every aching muscle in her body. Whatever Jean-Luc had chosen for their next day’s activity, she sincerely hoped it would not involve a lot of walking.

Twenty minutes later, when she had almost fallen asleep twice in the tub, she decided it would be best to retire to her bedroom early. She had bid him good night, before changing and slipping under the soft covers of her large bed.  
The exhaustion of the day had quickly lulled her into the embrace of a deep, dreamless sleep.

When she awoke hours later a glance to the clock confirmed her hopeful expectations. It was about 4 am in the morning and there was plenty of  
time left to drift off into sleep again.

But despite the comfortable warmth of her blanket, she first forced herself to slip out from under it and fetch a glass of water from the kitchen.  
She draped her morning gown over her shoulders and pulled it closer around her body, to fend of the crisp cold that seeped in through her  
half opened window. On tiptoes, she left her bedroom and aimed for the kitchen, as a muffled sound made her halt in her tracks.

Frowning she followed it to its obvious source and found herself standing right infront of Jean-Luc's door in the dead of the night. There it was again. A  
whimper, as if in pain. Her frown turned to concern as she listened.

The quiet whimper slowly turned into trembling sobs. Vulnerable sounds in the night's silent darkness.  
She had known there was something on his mind that kept him awake. But she had not known it was bad enough to have him crying.  
It worried her deeply. She had seen him broken, crying on a few occasions, yes. The most prominent memory that came to her mind had been after his assimilation through the Borg. What had he seen, that was just as traumatizing? Or was he actually in pain?

Whatever it was, it had her worried enough to make her decision without hesitation.  
She bit her lip and slowly raised her hand. Gently she rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. Just as she did, all sounds ceased  
immediately.  
She waited, patiently, but there came no response. She thought about  
giving him time to think, to comprehend that she had heard him. But she refrained from it and knocked again. This time she gave the sound a more  
persistent tone.

Eventually there came a weak response. Barely audible she heard his  
"Come" and did not leave him with the chance to change his mind. She took a breath, bracing herself for anything that might await her, and entered.  
  
There she saw him. He was sitting on the side of his bed, doubled over, his face resting in his hands. His complexion startled her further.  
Maybe it was just the moonlight that barely illuminated his skin, but he was pale as a piece of paper as he forced himself to sit up and face his  
nightly guest.

 

He relived the moment again.

Desperately he fought against the restraints of his nightmare, as he was forced to watch her hit the surface hard. The sound of her neck breaking invaded his mind and resounded with sickening volume within his head.

He could not help, could not turn away, no matter how frantically he tried to. Not with all his strength he was able to close his eyes to what was happening right in front of them.

He felt the hot tears streaming down his face, as he saw her body dropping to the ground like a wet cloth - again. The last glimmer of life vanished from her, as she uttered her final wavering words:

“I’ve never stopped loving you…”

Every single syllable pierced his heart violently as he choked back his sobs. Jack Crusher’s voice forced his gaze to focus his blurry vision on him. Again, he had no other choice, but to watch helplessly his friend end his life in agony.

Only then, he was allowed to move. His body finally responded to his commands, too late to change anything of what just happened. All he could do, was rush to her side and pull her lifeless body into his lap. That was when he could no longer hold back. Silent sobs racked his body as he held her close to his chest. He tried to tell himself it was not real, it was not his Beverly, whose warmth was slowly dissipating beneath his touch. But it felt so horribly and unalterably true…

 

That was when his eyes flew open.

Reality slowly seeped in to him. He was sitting in his bed upright and he could still feel the remains of hot tears on his face. Slowly he drew in a deep breath to calm his raging heart. Relentlessly it was pounding against his ribs, still refusing to acknowledge his recent experiences as a nightmare. The gruesome nightmare that robbed him of his sleep night after night.

Just as he set his bare feet to the cold floor, a knock on his door made him realize what had brought him out of his sleep. He heaved a forlorn sigh and rubbed his hands over his damp face. There was no use in ignoring her. He knew her well enough to be aware of her very persistent way of care. She would not let this drop until she was fully assured, he would be okay. Hesitantly he allowed her to enter his room.

 As he raised his weary gaze, he found her standing in the doorway. Her expression was one of concern and uncertainty, when she made her way over to his bed. He felt the mattress shift slightly beside him. She sat herself carefully, maintaining a professional distance he was glad of having. Only looking at her was painful enough to make his heart clench in anguish. Mere seconds ago he had held her dead body in his arms. Her presence only brought the images and emotions back without mercy. It took him all his strength to not succumb to the nightmarish sight again.

 An eerily silence enveloped them both, as neither knew what to say. As he eventually spoke, only a light tremble betrayed his battered emotional condition.

“I’m sorry, if I woke you.”

 His words seemed to prompt something inside of her, for her uncertainty vanished at his speaking. She shook her head.

“You did not. I was on my way to the kitchen, when I heard.”

  _Heard me weeping like a child,_ he added in his thoughts, very much aware that she had intentionally not said, what she had heard exactly. To his surprise, he was not as self-conscious as he had expected himself to be. He was far too exhausted for that. Both emotionally and physically. Truth be told, all he felt now was an awful emptiness.

He shook his head, as she asked him if he was in any pain. He noticed she already was on the verge of bolting into her room to get her tricorder. She relaxed barely to his reaction but the expression of concern remained etched onto her beautiful face.

 “Jean-Luc-“ she set off, but he silenced her with another shake of his head.

 “It was just a nightmare.”

The explanation sounded hollow, even to him.

She knew just as well as him that there was more behind it. That it was not just any nightmare. However, she would not press him to speak about it. Instead she patiently stayed by his side and he closed his eyes tightly as he felt the warmth of her soft hand upon his larger one.

 

And there it was again. That wall that he had erected around himself. That shell that did not permit anybody but himself to see what was going on in his head, his heart. The one that bottled up all his suffering within himself, leaving him to deal with it alone.

It hurt her to watch it. His emotional control was astonishing, almost Vulcan, as some said. But it was unhealthy. Right now more than ever. And as his Doctor, and more than that - as his friend, she felt obliged to soothe his pain.

Slowly she took her hand from his and raised it to brush two fingers over his cheek. She could clearly feel the slight stubble of hair beneath her touch that he shaved off so cleanly every single morning. She ignored his slight wince to her delicate touch. To her there was no going back now.

Cautiously and very aware of him tensing up, she inched closer and drew him into her warm embrace.

First his body was stiff and unyielding against hers. Then he slowly surrendered to her calm and let his forehead drop to her shoulder. Silently she held him close and tenderly stroked his back. And though it might just have been her imagination, she was fairly sure that, despite his quiet, she could feel the fabric on her shoulder dampen…

 

 


	9. CHAPTER IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took me some time. This Chapter will not be very action-filled since I felt like it would not fit into their current situation. I hope you'll nevertheless enjoy it. :)

Beverly awoke slowly, drowsy eyes blinking into the dim morning light that fell in through the curtains. A strange but welcome feeling of serenity enveloped her, as she revelled in the warmth of her bed.  
  
That was exactly when she realized someone's even breathing fanning against her neck and his arm that was draped over her curled up body possessively.

All fell back into place and she carefully turned to find Jean-Luc close behind her, fast asleep and with a content smile on his lips.  
Only a few hours ago he had looked so distraught and vulnerable, she had not been able to leave him alone.  
Since neither he had been very willing to talk, nor she had been forcing him, they had come to a wordless accordance.

With a little bit of her encouragement he had eventually given in and laid back on his bed to fetch a few more minutes of sleep. She had stayed by his side, on the edge of his bed and had quietly watched over him, promising to be there if he was again assaulted by nightmares.It had not taken her long to succumb to her own fatigue. Obviously he had gotten hold of her after that.

Briefly she wondered if it had been a conscious decision of his, or if he had just acted on instinct.  
To her, right now, it did not matter.

His scent, his smile, his warmth. It was all so very tempting to give in to her lingering desire, she had been denying for so long.  
Very cautiously she turned in his embrace until she was facing him, her nose almost touching his.

He stirred in his sleep, grimaced slightly at her movement, but did not wake up - to her relief.  
Her gaze lingered on his lips for a second but she forced it away and instead raised her hand.

She brought the soft tips of her fingers to his brow and gently brushed them over his skin. First there was no reaction at all and it urged her to take it a little further. Slowly she traced her fingers down the side of his face, along the shell of his ear and behind. They came to rest on the soft frizz of greyish hair on the back of his head.

Now this time her actions elicited a content hum from him that made her heart flutter.

His low, gravelly voice never ceased to amaze her. And he knew so very well how to utilise it around her. The sound of her name, deep, rich and rumbling, never failed to capture her undivided attention. The way he used it when they were alone, was so very different to the impressive and authoritative tone he adopted when commanding.

With a sigh she carefully drew her hand back. She needed him to rest a bit longer after the previous night. She herself was wide awake now and she did not want to wake him with her stirring.  
So very cautiously she freed herself of his grasp and snaked out from under the covers.

He frowned in his sleep and shifted slightly to a more comfortable position.  
It was adorably innocent, she though, all the while smiling.  
On the spur of the moment she leaned in and kissed his temple before she left the room to prepare them some breakfast.  
  
  
Picard awoke to the distant clinking of dishes. A sound that reminded him of his home in La Barre, where replicators had never been used, but every meal had been prepared by hand.

With a yawn he rolled onto his back and listened to the somehow calming noise with closed eyes. He felt as rested and relaxed as he had not been in weeks, very aware of who he had to thank for that.  
When he had awoken once in the early morning he had found Beverly sleeping soundly beside him. A sight he had longed to see for so very long.

The thought of pulling her into his embrace had been so very tempting, but he had restrained himself, knowing full well that she would probably not appreciate the tender gesture as much as he did.  
So he had kept his distance for the sake of her privacy and had once again fallen asleep.

Now she was obviously up and preparing their breakfast.  
Stretching his tired limbs, he compelled his body to leave the warm comfort of his bed and headed for the bathroom to get himself refreshed and dressed for the day.  
As he strode past the mirror, he stilled and regarded himself for a few seconds. One of his brows arched, as he picked a few stray red hairs from his shoulder and rinsed them off into the sink. Maybe they had unconsciously come closer than intended. He would not mind it at all.

However, what he did mind was that she had seen him that wound up and troubled. Not a condition she had not witnessed him in before. There were several occasion where he had poured all his sorrow to her and relied on her comfort. As she had relied on his in dire situations.  
But this was the first time ever, he felt so extremely hesitant to tell her what was keeping him up at night. After all she was, unintentionally and unknowingly of course, the current reason for all of his worry...  
  


The morning began silently. As he emerged from his bedroom, Beverly was just bringing two steaming cups of tea to the set table.  
The smell of croissants and several toppings invaded his senses as he took his place opposite of her.

The radiating smile on her face eased his tension a little and apart from an occasional chat, they held their breakfast in companionable silence. He felt relieved about her understanding for his situation. There were no probing questions, no urging. Just her reassuring company. 

Her smile widened visibly to his proclamation of their plans for the remaining day. After his tour through the entire exhibition the day before, which had been fascinating but very exhausting for her, he had dedicated their second day's activity entirely to her. He had booked them some time for relaxation in a spa with several pools and other opportunities to rid yourself of all remaining stress. It had been most warml recommended to him, even if he could not recall by whom.

After their time in the spa he would take her to the theatre for a play she had been longing to see. Her joy over his planning was evident for she was now very eager to leave for their first destination.  
  


As they left their hotel suit, he grabbed his book and took it along to the spa. While she enjoyed herself, he would find a quiet spot to sit down and read.

But Beverly, for her part, had other plans with him.  
While she had left him alone this morning, she was now not going to give him any peace. She insisted for him to tag along because he "could use a little alleviation of tension - Doctor's orders".

How could he protest to that? - Especially since he felt so grateful for her care.  
Eventually he gave in and soon found himself standing inside the spa in nothing but the flimsy greyish replicated swimming trunks which were supplied here. He heaved a sigh as he waited for her arrival from the changing cabins.

As she did, he had to muster up all his strength not to stare blatantly at her gorgeous body.  
They azure blue swimsuit elegantly underlined every beautiful curve and valley from her neck down. He did not even dare to take a closer look on her willowy legs.  
As he politely forced his gaze away to search for their next destination, he could have sworn he had heard her chuckling silently beside him.  
  


After a short tour, side by side, through the entire spa, they had soon found their occupation.  
A slightly secluded area to the left, shielded from view by a delicately decorated wall, provided a large round pool of warm water.  
It emitted an alluring scent of fresh orange. The description explained the odour issued from a bath salt imported from the Martian colonies. It proved to loosen muscle tension reliably, while all the while smoothing one's skin. Beverly was immediately captured and eager to test it.  
  
This time he could not help but watch mesmerised, as she pinned up her fiery hair and slid into the water. Her sigh send a shiver down his spine.  
With closed eyes she leaned back against the tiled side of the pool and waved her hand in his general direction.  
"Come join me. It feels so good."

He did not doubt it did. At least if it felt as good as it smelled.

Still distracted by her enticing appearance, he eased himself into the pool and immediately slid down against its wall until the water touched his chin. The bath's unwinding properties washed over him and he felt all his present strain dissolving into the suds. An unconscious groan left his lips and he revelled in the feeling of floating weightlessly.  
  
Beverly raised one brow and smirked to the unusual sound of her companion. She spotted him a few feet away, leaned back and already drowsy. She would need to have an eye on him to keep him from dozing off in his sleep-deprived state.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted off to the upcoming evening. Sooner or later she would need to confront him, for he would evade talking about it until he would be thrashing and crying alone again, tortured by his nightmares.

She had set her mind. Tonight she would not let him deal with it alone. Tonight she would be by his side and hold him and keep him safe from any menace that dared disturbing his peaceful slumber.

She already expected him to complain, to wave it off as nothing. However, that would not stop her from pulling it through.

His questioning stare brought her out of her rumination about her determination. He arched his brow slightly.

“That’s the face you make when you’re scheming something, Beverly. What are you up to now?”

She grinned wickedly in response.

“Let’s make it a surprise.”


	10. CHAPTER X

Time went by remarkably quickly while they enjoyed their stay in the spa. Soon they found themselves dressed back up and on their way to the theatre.

Despite the autumn's cold, they decided against the option of taking a shuttle. Instead, they sauntered leisurely through London's streets, pausing here and there to admire the sight. There was enough time left to take it slowly and stop at their hotel to don some more suitable clothing for their noble destination.

All the while they submersed themselves in easy chatting about nonchalant topics. Stories of Beverly's daily routine in sickbay, the book Jean-Luc was still reading, the restaurant they would pick for dinner. Neither of them brought the last night up, but an ever-present - almost tangible - tension, both very aware of it, let them fall into an uncomfortable silence more than once.

It was obvious to him that it would have to be discussed as soon as they were back to the safety of their private suite tonight. Otherwise neither of them would sleep properly and he had no intention to drag her into this more than he already had.

In the end he wasn't even able to focus on the play at all. His mind was rambling helplessly, trying to get some order into the raging chaos.

He had not spoken to anyone about his encounter with Jack Crusher in the other reality nor about what he had witnessed there. So naturally, there had been no chance to rid himself of all the unanswered questions that threatened him every night when he laid awake.

Would he have been able to change what had happened? What had his alter ego done exactly to provoke this unchecked fury inside his former best friend? Would he have really acted the same if he had been in his place? Why had he felt so entirely helpless? To whom had Beverly dedicated her final words?

None of those questions could be answered, no matter how hard he tried to approach them as logically as possible. Still they resurfaced as soon as he let his thoughts wander. After every horrifying nightmare they tormented him ruthlessly.

And there was no possible way of getting out on his own.

First he had stubbornly decided to sit it out. Time cured all wounds, he had told himself. He would just need to wait, focus on his work and get his mind off it until the pain subsided.  
But as soon as his Beverly came close to him, spoke to him, it all was back just as painful as before.

And there was no way to him to distance himself from her. Even if he had tried avoiding her throughout the shore leave, he would still have found himself calling her as soon as a chance presented itself.

In conclusion, there was no way around it other than facing his hurt and entrusting his sorrow to her.

When the play ended he had made up his mind and banished all his reluctance, eager to get over with it as soon as possible.  
Their dinner was the last obstacle he would have to overcome, before he could, literally, pour his heart out to her, for it felt like all his sorrow had settled itself in his chest, resulting in an ubiquitous pulling and stinging sensation.

He made his best efforts to engage in her attempts of easy conversation throughout the three courses of their meal. However, he quickly noticed his trying was in vain. As soon as he tore his gaze away from her to refocus his mind on something less depressing, he felt her eyes intensely burning into his soul. She knew there was something markedly wrong with him and there was no way she was going to let it slip.

 

  
They made their way back in companionable silence and shunned eye contact until the door clicked shut behind them. As it did, all restraints vanished into thin air.

"Beverly," he rasped, his voice hoarse with pent up tension, but she did not allow him to continue. Instead she silenced him with her warm hand of his forearm. Silently she summoned a wan smile and strode over to her bedroom. He waited, puzzled by her reaction, until she eventually gestured him to follow.

Reluctantly he went after her and found her settled onto the edge of her bed. She had drawn one foot beneath herself and patted the mattress right beside her, motioning him to sit.

He did as instructed and kept his professional distance as he took his place by her side. Unlike her relaxed posture he was stiffly perched on her bed's edge, unsure of what she was aiming to achieve.  
Her attentive gaze was riveted to him, he could feel it boring into his side.  
"Tell me."

Just those two words were enough to evoke his doubts again. Whether it was fine to burden her with his sorrow or better keep quiet about it and deal with it alone.

"Jean-Luc." She said, gently urging him to open up.  
Eventually he broke the lingering silence.

"I've been having the same dream for weeks," he began his hesitant explanation. The steadiness and calm of his own voice surprised him.  
"Since Trelane's assault. When I was jumping between realities, I ended up in sickbay with Jack."  
Now he felt her shift and tense beside him but he focused his gaze stubbornly on the wall, tracing the wallpaper pattern to keep his emotions in check.  
He paused shortly, recollecting himself.

"No, let me correct that. I found myself with a man who once used to be called Jack Crusher. But when I looked into his eyes, there was nothing left of the man we knew. Nothing but rage and hatred."  
He could clearly recall the image, as it had etched itself into his memory. That burning glare of rampant fury and murderous intent.

"Beverly was there as well."  
He said, carefully picking to use her name instead of any pronoun. His Beverly had, thank heavens, never been there.

"Jack announced his intention to, as he phrased 'blow my brains out' with the phaser he was carrying. By then it was obvious why. The jealousy was written all over his face."  
Now he could not help but to let his gaze flicker to her to make sure she understood without him having to put it into words. Telling from the uncomfortable expression on her face, he guessed she had.

Clearing his throat to move on with his explanation, he turned back to face the wall.  
"It all happened very quickly then. Before any of us could muster a coherent thought, we were tangled up in battle, desperately trying to prevent him from committing his crime. Beverly was trying to sedate him but failed. I was knocked out cold for a few seconds - he had struck me right in the face. As I came to, the first thing I saw was Jack shoving Beverly off himself with as much force as he could muster. She stumbled back."  
His nails dug deep into the skin of his palms as his hands balled into fists.

"I watched as she fell and her head struck the table."  
His voice failed him as he uttered the last word, betraying his stoic facade. Briefly he closed his eyes and banished the images, that spilled from his memory.

As he was sure he could again trust his voice, he slowly but steadily went on with his report.  
"She died almost immediately right in front of my eyes. And all I could do was watch helplessly. Her final words were barely audible,"  
his voice turned bitter, as he spat out,  
"but Jack made very sure I understood they were directed to him only."

"What did she say?"  
Her question was just a whisper and for a second he paused, wondering if it would be wise to tell her. He came to the conclusion that there was no going back now. He did not want her pondering about it just because he refused to tell her. So he mustered up his strength and said,  
"Her words were ' _I’ve never stopped loving you'_ if I recall it correctly."  
Of course he did. The single sentence had etched itself into his memory, along with the love and desperation he had read in her eyes right before the light left them.

"Jack then -" he paused, struggling to phrase the information properly, "Jack ended his life."  
The impact of his words rendered them both silent.

Still persistently refusing to break his hollow stare away from the opposite wall, he fought against the tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks.  
He failed miserably as he felt her warm touch on his clenched fist, slowly stroking the tense muscle to ease his grip. Choking back a sob he lowered his gaze on his own fist, relaxing it slightly to let her slender fingers slip in-between his own.

The mattress right beside him moved as she leaned in and rested her head against his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he saw her red mane cascading over the turquoise silk of his shirt. He sniffled, grimly determined to compose himself.

“What did you do?”

Her voice broke the quiet so suddenly, he involuntarily turned his head to get a glimpse of her face. Noticing it was impossible, for his chin only came to rest on her hair, he turned back to the wall.

What did he do? He had avoided to think about it. He grit his teeth audibly, answering her question with restraint.

“I acted on impulse. I remember myself crawling over to… Beverly.”

He halted, fully aware of how strange it all must sound to her. Speaking about her dead body in the third person, while she was right beside him - It made it all seem so unreal.

“I held her close and tried to… comprehend what had happened. I felt nauseous, tired and empty – and I slowly became fully aware of the fact that I did not know _which_ Beverly I held.”

Her grip on his hand tightened to his revelation and he felt her shift closer to him. In any other situation, it would have been a welcome sensation. Right now he did not quite know how to react to it.

“Q eventually showed up and urged me into action.”

He trailed off, lost in his thoughts until she spoke up again.

“Stay here tonight.”

He blinked several times, a frown knitting his brows together in bewilderment.

“Pardon?” Was the only response he could come up with.

“Stay here tonight,” she repeated and sat up to look at him.

“Neither of us will sleep if you don’t. You successfully reminded me of my own awful encounter with… Jack. You owe me that.”

Now he did turn and despite the smile she was offering him, he could read the anxiety swirling in the vibrant azure of her eyes. A pang of guilt made the muscle of his jaw clench. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he considered his options. He quickly came to the conclusion that there were none. Heaving a sigh, he nodded. "Fine. Just let me get changed."

How could he ever deny her anything if she looked at him like that?

 

Just as he rose to his feet to get his pyjama, the chirp of a combadge caught his attention.


	11. CHAPTER XI

“Ogawa to Dr. Crusher.”

Alyssa’s voice puzzled Beverly. Not that it was unpleasant to hear her, the woman was a close friend of hers, but Alyssa knew full well that Beverly originally had planned to cut all ties to Starfleet for the time of their shore leave. She had taken her combadge for emergencies only.

An uneasy nervousness crept up her spine as she rummaged through the nightstand to find the chirping device. Her sudden change of mood was no secret to Jean-Luc. She could feel his tense stare on her back.

To spare him more sorrow she took a deep breath and muttered,

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed while I talk to Alyssa. I just asked her to inform me about the outcome of an experiment I was running.”

There was a wary hesitance in his movement as he reluctantly complied.

She waited patiently until his footfall was silent enough to guess he had reached his room. To her relief he had closed the door behind him. However wary he was, he still respected her wish for privacy. She had expected nothing else of him.

Not wanting to lose anymore time, she replied to nurse Ogawa’s call without any further delay.

“Crusher here, Alyssa, what happened?”

The strain in the younger women’s voice was audible as she responded.

“Dr. Crusher, I’m sorry to disturb you. I would not call, if I did not think it would be eminently important-“

“Yes- I know, what happened?” Beverly urged her.

“Mr. Walker died this morning. Starfleet Medical vowed they did anything they could but the pathogen proved to be resistant to any treatment they performed.”

Beverly’s heart fell. She had not known the man personally, as he had only been to sickbay for his routine check-up before, but that did not matter to her. He had been her patient and she felt partly responsible for his death. Maybe she should have stayed, though she hardly believed her presence would have made a big difference. Starfleet Medical was led by very skilful people. People she respected and trusted. But no matter how many lives she had lost throughout her career, despite doing her very best of course, the tiny question _what if_ somehow always found its way back into her head.

Now she shook it off. There was no way to undo what happened and Alyssa went on.

“The other patient’s conditions are worsening just as quickly. And throughout the last two days seven more cases were reported and brought to Starfleet Medical.”

Beverly gasped audibly.

“Seven more?”

“Yes, and as far as we can tell it won’t stop there. The pattern the virus spreads-“

“So it _is_ a virus!”

“Yes, so much is confirmed. But the way it spreads is not yet discovered. None of the seven people were in contact with each other or with the known cases. One of them wasn’t even a member of our crew. The _Enterprise_ has already been scanned from bow to aft. They found no trace of the virus. Neither in her environmental and life support systems or replicators, nor in any of the supplies. Nothing. Right now it seems it arises out of thin air.”

Both women fell silent.

Reluctantly, Beverly eventually said, “I better get back to San Francisco then. I-“

“No, no,” Alyssa interrupted her and quickly apologized for it.

“I did not intend to make you hurry here. We already are stepping on each other’s feet. I just considered it important to keep you updated on our progress, if you can call it that. Just in case-“

“Just in case either me or the people around me show any symptoms.” Beverly finished for Alyssa.

“That and because of the possibility that you might come up with some idea.”

With a sigh Beverly ran one hand through her hair and nodded unconsciously. A soft knock on her door brought her back to the here and now.

“Alright.” She responded silently, “I have a PADD with me. Make all information available to me and I’ll have a look at it as soon as I am done with my patient here.”

“I thought you are on shore leave?”

Beverly smiled ruefully as she quickly changed into her sleepwear.

“I am. Thank you for keeping me updated. I'll contact you as soon as I've read through it. Crusher out. - Come in.”

Her last words were directed towards the door. It opened obediently, revealing Picard in his evening gown. His posture was upright but his stride faltered slightly as he entered the room, as if unsure where to go.

In response she summoned a reassuring smile and held her hand out to him.

Encouraged by her gesture he made his way over to the large bed and sat himself on the side that did not seem to be occupied.

With a sigh he rid himself of his slippers and leaned back against the fluffy pillow.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.” She assured him before she headed for the bathroom. Her thoughts were still all disarranged. What Alyssa had just informed her of worried her deeply. But there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. There were other matters she had to attend to tonight.

She had already suspected that her friend’s insomnia issued from what he had witnessed and experienced in their last encounter with Q and his protégée. But she had not expected herself, or better another version of herself, to be involved.

Lost in her pondering she brushed her teeth.

 _‘I never stopped loving you’,_ hm? That was what her alter ego had said before life had left her. For her it was impossible to tell whom she had meant by it, for the simple reason that Beverly did not know how much _her_ life had differed from her own. There were so many past decisions that would affect to whom the sentence may have been directed. But if she spoke for herself it would not have been a lie to either of them.

Although time had slowly healed all wounds, her feelings for her husband never ceased to exist and she held his memory as dear as she always had. There were still, albeit rarely, moments when she was alone, that a wave of wistfulness caught her.

That was part of the reason why she could not bring herself to confess the romantic feelings she harboured for Jean-Luc. While she had at first tried to convince herself he was no more than a friend to her, she had quickly developed a more serious interest in him. The more she had tried to push it away, the clearer it became. Curiosity had quickly evolved into a desire for more. Not just physically but also emotionally. By now there was no denying it. Sighing deeply she headed back for the bedroom.

 

She could not keep herself from chuckling quietly as she found her new ‘bunkmate’ snoring lightly when she came back into the shared bedroom. Exhaustion had claimed him quicker than expected. On tiptoes she sneaked to his side studied him smiling. He was lying flat on his back, his head slightly tilted in her direction. His face seemed relaxed to her, free of any evidence that would have led her to guess he was having nightmares again.

Gingerly she picked the book from his chest that had obviously slipped from his hands as he had fallen asleep and placed it on his nightstand.

As she did, her fingers lightly brushed over the frizzed hair of his chest. In response, he shifted slightly, a low grunt leaving his mouth.

Biting her lower lip to stifle her chuckle, she carefully rounded the bed to her own side. She would not dare disturbing his peaceful slumber. He needed it so urgently.

As soon as she had snuggled herself into the blanket she switched off the lights and turned in his direction. By now she was vigorously battling the feeling she had last felt years ago: The distinct tingling and prickling sensation of pleasant anticipation in her belly.

The desire of just inching a little closer and cuddling herself against his warm body. Of being safely wrapped in his loving embrace. Of nuzzling his skin, breathing in his unique scent.

 _Maybe, just maybe_ , she thought as the drowsiness slowly claimed her consciousness, _someday I’ll be able to…_

“Ouch!”

Instantly her hand snapped to the back of her head, where she had just been hit by something solid.

“What the-“ she muttered disgruntled as she turned over in half-sleep to locate her attacker. 

Within seconds she was wide-awake.

What she saw made her heart clench painfully.

Still trapped in his torturous nightmare, Jean-Luc laid all tensed up beside her. Repeatedly light spasms rippled through his muscles, leading him to thrash violently against an attacker she could not see. He was muttering uncoherent words, curses, pleas. Her name -

_Her name!_

Startled she processed what unfolded in front of her.

“Jean-Luc.”

Careful to avoid his erratic blows, she struggled to get a grip on his forearms and eased them down beside him with gentle pressure to keep him from accidentally hurting himself.

“ _Jean-Luc._ ”

She repeated his name with urgency.

“I’m here. Luc, I’m here, calm down.” She murmured, steadily keeping his arms by his sides.

A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his body as he rose against her grasp and writhed beneath her.

“Jean-Luc!”

His eyes flew open and stared up into her face, first panicked and disoriented, then slowly regaining their usual sharpness, now tinted with deep sorrow.

Beverly could feel his chest heave in quick, shallow breaths beneath her own weight.

Now she gradually became aware of the position they found themselves in.

She had straddled him unwittingly, his abdomen between her thighs, and pinned his wrists down beside his shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered under his breath.

His apology resolved her freeze and she let her head drop in a mixture of relief and discomfort.

“No need to be,” she responded quietly, “that’s why I asked you to stay here, didn’t I?”

She felt him move beneath her touch and released his wrist from her grasp. Seconds later his fingertips softly grazed the skin of her cheek, tenderly tucking loose strands of reddish hair behind her ear.

That was when she gave in to her desire.

Not yet able to stand his gaze, she lowered herself and buried her face against his shoulder. She felt him tense immediately and was already regretting her bold action, when both his arms wrapped themselves around her body securely.

"You know what?"  
She turned slightly, murmuring into the skin of his neck.

His low hum urged her to go on.

"Maybe those nightmares will subside if you hold me while you sleep."  
It sounded even more stupid spoken aloud as it had already in her head. What difference would it make? He was hardly aware of his surroundings when he fell asleep.

Still he pondered her suggestion for a while before he could bring himself to answer.  
"Just for medical reasons?"

His question caught her off-guard.  
Now she raised her head, locking her gaze with his in the pale moonlight. She noticed his concern and uncertainty beside something else.

There was a flicker of hope in his hazel eyes, beckoning her to give the desired answer.  
"Not just for medical reasons." She replied with genuine warmth.  
"For… personal reasons just as much."

She watched him curiously as the spark of hope grew into a steady flame.  
"Are you sure?"

Now she had to stifle a laugh.  
"Never have been more so."

He barely gave her the chance to crawl off and beside him before he hugged her flush to his chest.  
Happily she smiled against his shoulder and curled her fingers into the fabric of his pyjamas.

"Luc, I'd appreciate if you didn't suffocate me."  
She quipped, her voice muffled against his body. She earned a sheepish apology from her best friend...


	12. Author's note: Story on hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's note

I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long! I've been working through very stressful weeks lately and almost have no free time left for writing or being otherwise creative. By now I'm kind of stuck in this story. Writer's block struck me hard this time. Words just won't come to me for some unknown reason. I promise I'll keep trying to go on writing for you, but right know I don't think I could keep up the quality this story and its characters deserve.

**Author's Note:**

> There we go - my first short fanfic chapter on AO3!  
> It took me long enough to finally create an account on here. Comments are of course very welcome (be it constructive critique, suggestions, questions, praise) to improve either my story or my writing.  
> Since english is not my first language I appreciate any correction of errors. Don't be shy, just tell me. 
> 
> And please have a lot of fun with reading the following chapters!
> 
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
> 
> All characters and Star Trek itself rightfully belong to Paramount. This fanfiction is based upon Peter David's novel 'Q-Squared' and is a non-profit work of fiction with purely the interest of entertainment. 
> 
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


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